ABDUCTED
by burntoutcandles
Summary: (BETTER DESCRIPTION LATER) Will Graham's relationship suffers through his post traumatic stress disorder. HANNIBAL - Will Graham. T/W Rape, Violence, Other Adult Content.
1. Prologue

_"I don't want to feel like this anymore."_

_I didn't want to feel like I was mental anymore. The flashbacks, the nightmares, the still occurring hallucinations, the frequent hospital visits..._

_"I know you don't."_

_I wasn't some machine that could just restart itself, or go in for repair and come out good as new._

_"You should probably go." I said quietly, closing my eyes and taking in a slow breath. I hated being like this around her. I hated being the lunatic she had to put up with... take care of... feel sorry for..._

_"Will, I'm not going anywhere." She sighed, sitting down next to me on the bathroom floor. I instinctively moved away as she placed a hand on my shaking back. I was going to throw up again. I was going to throw up again, and I really didn't want her in here when I did. "Besides, I live here too. Remember?"_

***(All flashbacks will be in italics)***


	2. Un

"I'm not hungry."

I'd been protesting for days, weeks, probably months, but she never listened.

"We could get ice cream..."

Em was just so stubborn; she never listened.

**"No."**

At first, I thought she felt sorry for me. It wasn't romantic passion that gnawed at her flesh like... it didn't matter anymore. Everything had been fine until the memories started coming back.

I'd met Emily on a fluke. It had been a rainy night, late night. I'd just left my office and hailed a cab home, as I'd felt too lightheaded to drive that morning. At approximately the same time, a delicate, dark haired young woman, shivering under a wilting umbrella, hailed the same cab. We'd agreed to share, got to talking... and before either of us knew it, we'd been dating eight months. She was twenty five, a journalist, and an Aquarius. Such frivolous and irrelevant things seemed to matter so much then. I was happy in my own forgetful bliss. I prospered in my ignorance.

"Will, you have to eat." She said, wrapping an arm around my waist. I pulled out the car keys, ignoring her completely.

"Maybe later."

-

I twitched in the tacky green and white checkered booth. Emily had won like always, so here we were. Pretending things were okay over ice cream. We were always pretending. I didn't know why she was dating me anymore. Next week would make it a year. Next week would also make it four months since the memories had started trickling back. _A year... a whole year..._ she'd say, beaming. She'd had a bad track record when it came to relationships, and, considering she hadn't left me yet, said something. I should have let her go, but it just didn't seem right. She wanted to be with me - it was her own choice. Still, I couldn't imagine why. I'd just been getting worse to deal with.

We'd been to this place dozens of times, but I couldn't even remember what I ordered. I let Emily tell the waitress something, I didn't care. I wasn't hungry. My mind kept clouding over, a frustrating jumble of documents, photographs, dates, screams, blood...

**Snap out of it, Will.**

A teenage waitress eventually placed something down in front of me, causing my breathing to stop in the center of my throat and my stomach to twist unbearably. Blood dripped from the sides of the dish, pooling on to the table. A still pulsating, but severely punctured heart beat on mockingly, challenging me to stay, challenging me to take a bite...

"Em, I don't want it!"

My vision blurred with tears as I came crashing down from the hallucination. A dish of strawberry ice cream sat sadly in front of me, while several people stared.

I exited the booth as my stomach began betraying me further, taking off at a full sprint for the men's room as I felt myself beginning to vomit.

_I ate him... Oh god, I ate him..._


	3. Deux

The car ride home was silent. I didn't mind, even though I knew it made her uncomfortable. She wanted to say something, but didn't know how.

I'd let Emily lead me to the bedroom once we got home, too worn down to object. The endless machine of doctors, hospitals, and psychiatrists was consuming me. No wonder I'd been throwing up so much, it was sickening. I wanted a quick fix, I wanted out. I needed to get out of my own head. I'd have gladly given up everything but Emily just to be someone else.

"Here..." She said, taking one of my hands and trailing it up her shirt, grazing her soft skin. She reached for my other hand, doing the same until they were both beneath her underwire bra, cupping her chest. "How does that feel?"

I felt my face going hot, and immediately dropped my gaze. I knew where this was going.

"...good."

I bit down on my lip, trying to resist the overwhelming urge to move away. It **did**feel good, but I wasn't exactly positive I could handle much more right now.

Emily smiled encouragingly.

"I'm glad. I want you to feel good, Will."

I was almost sure that was part of what my psychiatrist told her to say. Although I knew it to be true, it just sounded so... mechanic. Too well formulated, too well thought out. A more polite "I wish you'd have sex with me." She could've gotten it out of a psych book. Maybe she did.

Pushing away my pessimistic thoughts, I leaned in and pressed my lips to hers. Kissing was easy. I was used to kissing. I could handle kissing. I'd fucked a lot of things up, but I could still do this fairly well. Kissing felt good, and she wanted me to feel good.

Her mouth was hot, and her delicate tongue was smooth. I pushed my own tongue into her mouth, squeezing her small chest at the same time. It felt good, pleasurable. For a moment, I thought I could -

"Nnn... no. Em, no."

I quickly pushed her hand away from the zipper on my jeans, taking a step back. Too fast.

"No?"

_"Get off me..." I whimpered, once again trying to break the cable ties around me. His firm grip around my shoulders tightened. I began to desperately try and ram my back further into the chair's backing, in the hopes of it tipping over._

"Will, may I suggest you sit still?"

I momentarily stopped thrashing when I felt something cold between my legs. It grazed at a particular vein, turning me to stone.

Lecter smiled tauntingly at me. There was an omnipresent sense of evil in the dimly lit room. I'd always felt it, but pushed it aside for awhile, deeming it to be paranoia.

"You can cooperate, or you can bleed out. The choice is, ultimately, up to you."

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" I screamed, placing my hands over my face. Where was I? What was even going on?

I ran backwards, until I felt the harsh slam of my back against a wall. I couldn't breathe. My heart felt as if it were attacking my rib cage, desperate to get out. It boomed in my ears, in my throat, in the palms of my hands...

"Will? It's just me, Em."

I sunk to the floor, pulling my knees up to my chest. Emily's petit figure loomed in front of me, kneeling. I saw double, which then morphed into him... back to her... back to him... back again.

"Emily?" I panted, clumsily reaching out to try and grab at her shaky and blurred body while it was still there. Something so tangible, something I needed.

I screamed again as he came closer, still grinning in this demonic way. Sociopath. Closing my eyes did nothing.

"Will, it's Emily. You are in your apartment, you are with your girlfriend. You are having flashbacks, that's all it is. It's all over."

I felt arms around me - slender arms, female arms. My body wouldn't budge, a paralyzed turtle stuck in its shell. Her hair felt like satin against my damp cheek. I hadn't realized I'd been crying.

I blinked a few times, staring numbly at her. Moving my knees, I clumsily pulled her into my lap like she were a kitten. My trembling lips brushed against her forehead. I didn't know what to do, so I just kissed her again and again. Her hair, her forehead, her cheeks, her temple, her nose, and finally her lips.

"I'm so sorry... just... so sorry." I whispered, hugging her as hard as I could without hurting her. My grip tightened as I held in another sob.

"What happened to you was not your fault. You have nothing to be sorry for."


	4. Trois

Mornings were typically the best part of the day. The best part of mine, at least. That was when an infinite spread of optimism washed over me as the sunlight came in through the window. There was no guarantee that the day would be better than the one before it, but no guarantee that it would be worse. It felt like a miniature clean slate. I sometimes woke up forgetting everything that had happened entirely. Also, the heap of blankets (and dogs) we slept under felt especially cozy upon the first moments of waking up.

Sometimes I got up early and went for a walk with one or two of the dogs. The sun would still be down, and the grass would be wet with dew.

For awhile, Emily had been really into these Pilates exercises. She'd get up an hour early to work out. Usually, I'd wake up to find her rolling around the living room floor with the dogs, giggling as they licked her face. Then I'd lie down next to her and squeeze her hand, laughing just the same. Moments like that were the times I loved her most - when she was laughing until her stomach hurt and covered in dog hair. She made my heart go into absolute overdrive.

"Morning." I heard Emily say from beneath the mountain of covers, stifling a tiny yawn. She rolled over to face me, smiling as I hugged her tiny frame. Since today was Saturday, she wasn't working. I'd had to take some time off from work, and it got sort of lonely on the weekdays without her. Which was strange - I'd never really paid much attention to loneliness. I'd simply grown accustomed to it over the years. Now, it ate away at me. I didn't have many friends, so it felt like Emily was all I really had besides the dogs. Saturday was also the day we went to see a different psychiatrist together. I didn't particularly enjoy the handfuls of doctors and professionals I had to see on a constant basis, but I didn't mind this one as much. Although a bit uncomfortable at particular moments, she had been really helping Em and I overcome some of the obstacles (usually things that were my fault) in our relationship. Overall, Saturdays were usually pretty good days.

Emily tucked her face into my chest, curling up again like she were about to go back to sleep. The familiar sensation of her warm breath was calming.

"Oof," She murmured, propping her chin up with one hand to glance behind her. "Puppy just hit me in the butt."

I'd bought beds for all the dogs, but most of them still managed to climb up here with Em and I. There wasn't really much of a protest put up though, as their faces were very hard to say no to... especially when they started to whine.

"What a pervert." I smirked, bringing her face in closer to mine. She raised a single eyebrow, waiting patiently for my lips. Her hazel eyes glinted in the early morning haze, a burning sense of anticipation in them.

"I love you. Kiss me."

-

"So," Em began, pouring steaming hot coffee into our two mugs. "What do you want to do about the puppies?"

A few weeks ago, the two of us had taken in a stray sheepdog, who, as we later found out, was pregnant. Emily had taken to naming her Frida, as in Frida Kahlo. As much as we wanted to, we knew we just couldn't keep the entire liter of puppies.

"How many are we keeping?" I asked, kissing the top of her head.

Emily turned and gave me a painstakingly long look.

"Will, we already have six dogs."

I felt myself beginning to frown. Six _was_ quite a lot, but a tiny little puppy or two couldn't and wouldn't take up much space at all. I mean, yeah, they would grow, but... we could think about that later. There was enough room.

"You don't want to keep at least one puppy?" I tossed her a pouty look, bringing the mug of coffee to my lips and taking a small sip.

Em bit her lip, trying to avoid making eye contact with me. She knew she wasn't going to win this argument. Because, truth be told, she wanted to keep the puppies just as badly as I did.

A moment of silence enveloped the kitchen. I waited patiently, knowing she'd crack soon.

"One puppy," She finally sighed, shaking her head at me. "just _one_."

I smiled at the small victory, kissing her on the forehead in appreciation. I knew she'd give in. I also knew it was going to be really hard for both of us to get rid of five to ten adorably small puppies. They'd have to stay with us as newborns, just for a little while until they'd grown a bit. We were going to end up getting incredibly attached to them, this I already knew. I could tell by the look on her face she did knew too. What could I really say... we liked dogs.

"I'm sorry about last night." I said quietly. As the caffeine began to settle in, I began to fully recall the events of last night, in particular what had happened once we got home. Even though she always brushed my breakdowns off like they were nothing, I couldn't pry away my intense feelings of guilt. Being impulsively pushed away by the person who supposedly loved you had to crush her. And I hated that I couldn't help it. It was embarrassing.

"You have nothing to be sorry about."

I'd been trying so hard, but I just couldn't make the flashbacks stop. I was terrified that I might one day hurt her. I felt like an absolute monster.

Frida padded into the kitchen, sitting down beside our feet and whimpering. She'd been feeling pretty fragile for the past week or so. We'd taken her to the vet just to make sure she was okay, but nothing seemed to really be wrong. Guess the puppies had just been bothering her. I wasn't entirely sure how that worked. It was kind of funny to think that the only pregnant girl I'd ever be tending to was this dog. I didn't particularly care for children, and Emily absolutely detested them. Puppies, however, were a completely different story.

"I don't want to leave her." Em said with a sigh. She knelt down to scratch behind the tired looking sheepdog's ears, her face dawning a look of complete compassion that turned my insides to mush.

"I know, I know."

My girlfriend was good like that. She'd always been a bit of a worrier from what I'd gathered, and in the almost year I'd spent with her, I found it to be more than slightly true. She always took such good care of everyone.

"We can't stay here too much longer though. I don't wanna be late."


End file.
